


Trembling

by lunick



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: M/M, character angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-16 03:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunick/pseuds/lunick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanai's nightmares always leave him shaking in his sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trembling

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the end of season 2

Trembling.

Hanai remembers trembling. It was a way to get his agony out, as opposed to crying. He couldn’t cry — not in front of the team. He was the captain, he had to be strong. As he helped pull Nishihiro up, he felt his own fingers trembling against his teammate’s jersey.

“We lost,” he heard Mihashi say. He saw Abe pull him into a hug as best he could while being on crutches — he blinked his gaze away, eyes turning red around the edges. He held onto his hat, his nails digging into the brim of it to keep from shaking. Even Tajima was disheartened, his face not filled with any semblance of a smile, no crinkled nose, not even a look of determination in his eyes.

His eyes were glassy, and Hanai could see his fingers shaking as he zipped up his duffel bag.

Hanai’s subconscious must be a scary place, or maybe he just thinks too much — either way, he has frequent nightmares. And they’re all about things that are painfully realistic: someone dying, himself dying, or them losing. Again.

Them losing, and that feeling of trembling washing over his whole body. Of seeing Tajima shake like that too. Of wanting to cry, but not being able to, because he’s the captain, and he has to be strong no matter the circumstances.

Them losing, and it being all his fault. If only he ran faster, or hit further, or didn’t strike out so many times. If only he was like Tajima, then maybe they would’ve won.

He trembles in his sleep when he gets nightmares like those, but he doesn’t seem to wake up; he can’t seem to make himself wake up, so he just has to watch the whole game play out in silent agony, knowing he can’t do a thing but shake and feel the lump in his throat form and not have anything to do to relieve it. Everything shakes, right down to his core, every breath he takes and every word that comes out of his mouth wavers as he tries to encourage them—

But it was just a dream. He knows that, because he wakes up with a jolt, jerking upwards and hitting his forehead against something that was hovering over him… oh. It’s Tajima, and he’s grimacing and rubbing his forehead.

“Sorry,” Hanai whispers, his voice crackly and weak, and not just because he just woke up. He realizes his eyes feel wet, and he rubs them. Was he crying in his sleep? That’s far too pathetic.

“Are you okay?” The clean up asks, settling back down against the futon. “You were shaking like a leaf! I thought you were gonna die or something.”

“I…” I was having a nightmare. He swallows. “I was having a nightmare.”

“Do you have those a lot? You’re always shaking.”

He doesn’t want to admit it. But does he have them that often? Maybe he doesn’t even remember most of them, but… why would Tajima have noticed? Does he watch him sleep or something? Hanai’s cheeks flush with pink at the idea, but he quickly puts it out of his head.

“I… haven’t noticed,” he says, choosing his words carefully.

“Does it help if someone is around?”

Hanai feels a bit unnerved by all the questions his teammate is asking — what’s he supposed to say? He looks around him. He’s in a room full of people, but he feels so isolated. He even feels distant from Tajima, who is only a few inches from him.

“Obviously not,” he mutters, settling his head back onto his pillow. He closes his eyes for a second, huffing out a sigh through his nose. We just can’t lose. Then I won’t have nightmares anymore.

“What if…” Hanai can hear Tajima shifting, his hand being placed to the side of his torso, so the smaller boy is hanging over him like a cage. He opens his eyes and it face to face with the other boy, a clear view of his freckles and his eyes available even in the dim, 4 A.M. light. “I’m around?”

What if I’m around. Hanai doesn’t even have time to let that sink in, because the clean up eases himself down, so he’s laying on top of his chest, his face nuzzling into the crook of the captain’s neck. He’s warm. Number nine sucks in a breath. His chest feels heavy, for more than one reason, and he can feel the other boy’s heart beat faintly through his ribs, and he can feel slight trembles in his fingers as he wraps them around his ribcage.

“I had a nightmare too.”

Hanai doesn’t know what to say, but that doesn’t seem to be a problem.

“About us losing.”

He sucks in a breath. Tajima’s fingers curl up along the back of his ribcage.

“About you crying.”

He tries to take deep, measured breaths, and he can hear the other boy’s voice cracking. His fingers grasp at the fabric of Hanai’s shirt. The taller boy brings up his arms, tightening them around Tajima’s waist, thumb running a soft line into his bottom rib.

“It’s okay… it’s okay,” he can hear himself say. The words spilled out without his permission, and his hand slides up to the back of the freckled boy’s head without his permission too, black hair filling in the spaces between his fingers. “It’s okay. I love you.”

There’s no hesitation, even though there should be. He shouldn’t have said that, he didn’t mean to, oh God, and now Tajima is pulling himself up and staring at Hanai with these big, glassy eyes that reflect the dawn light seeping in through the window.

He can feel his fingers tremble, just as Tajima sinks down for a kiss.


End file.
